


Birth Of A Queen

by DemonAngelSakina



Category: Original Work
Genre: Body Horror, Mad Science, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Science Experiments, creation of a monster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:15:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22153120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonAngelSakina/pseuds/DemonAngelSakina
Summary: "Once you were pretty...now you are a beautiful horror."
Kudos: 14





	Birth Of A Queen

**Author's Note:**

> Old writing piece ahead, but I'm still proud of it.  
> Enjoy.

<"I will not let you do this!">  
<"Pity then...because, now, I will not let you escape.">

The woman in the black suit drew up her gun, leveling it on the other woman across the office; the younger woman looking at the weapon in terror as the elder stepped behind the heavy desk. The woman in black opened a drawer and drew out a respirator mask--never taking her eyes off the younger at gunpoint, the younger beginning to plead fearfully for her life. The elder slipped the mask into place with one hand then pressed a hidden panel on the desk--a soft hiss coming from the vents.

<"You mistake me...I never said that I would kill you.">

The threat of the gun kept the younger frozen in her spot in fear...until the gas took it's effects and she began collapsing to the floor; as she crumpled to her knees, doubled over as she coughed and struggled to breathe, she continued to plead with elder to let her go--to not do whatever she was planning...the elder ignoring her until the pleas and coughing finally ceased.

_"This is the new test subject for Project: 'Red Queen'. Do not hold back on her--if she expires, there will be more test subjects; I want this project to succeed...by any means."_

The guards fitted the woman into a long tube--shackling her wrists and ankles to the inner 'bed' of metal as she began to fight sluggishly against the strong men's grips, screaming out for help as the guards ordered her to be silent; one of the scientists came over and fitted a heavy, metal collar around her neck. He held up a small remote control and pressed a button--sending dozens of sharp needles into the back of her neck, the needles connecting into her spinal cord. She screamed loudly at the electrical surges from the computerized collar...until her screams were finally silenced.

_"Ma'am...the test subject appears to be fighting the mental conditioning as well as the experiments. The screaming is beginning to--"  
"I was under the impression that the control collar and computers would take care of that problem."  
"As I said, ma'am--she is fighting; none of the other test subjects fought the control collar--"  
"Cut out her tongue and sever her vocal cords."  
"Ma'am..."  
"Do it...unless you wish to be next."_

Her screams are silent now from the previous surgery--she can barely breathe, she thinks they did something during the surgery to her airways, but she can't be certain. Everything feels wrong...the injections--what have they put into her? Convulsions and pain rack her body--cold sweat soaks her skin...she can't think clearly--she thinks she's seeing things, but everything seems to be blurring from the pain. She hears the scientists say that her body temperature is rising drastically--a fever...they've made her sick...she wants to make them sick too.

_"This one is doing exceptionally--this may well be a success."  
"Ma'am, the subject's metabolism has spiked considerably--the body appears to be entering 'starvation mode'. We can't keep her nutrient levels stable and her weight continues to drop dramatically."  
"Where the subject loses width, height is added--fascinating turn of events."  
"We'll sedate the subject and transfer her to a new deprivation chamber."_

Hunger...so much; can't think for the hunger--she needs to find food...but she can't move from the tube. They moved her to a new tube--thicker with stronger, more numerous bonds and more tubes and wires pierced into her skin. Her whole body aches...every bone, every joint, every muscle--the machines won't stop beeping and whirring...the noises are making her angry. She wants silence...she wants the pain to stop.

_"The subject's flesh has been 'tearing' to accommodate the increased bone and muscle growth; the wounds are showing signs of rapid necrotization."  
"Sew the wounds--cauterize them if you must. Do whatever it takes--this subject is becoming too valuable to lose...especially with how much progress we have made."_

The pain never stops now--each day a new wound tears open or the old stitches rip; they suture and staple the wounds closed again--they sear the worst of them. She wishes she were numb to the pain--she wishes they would drug her so she didn't feel when they sew her up. Her hand ache and tries to scrape her nails on the metal bed of the tube to try and relieve the stiffness...but her fingers won't move--she thinks the bones have fused. She closes her eyes as she begins to cough--not a sound passing her bloody lips.

_"Ma'am...the subject has undergone further...'changes'."  
"Define 'changes'."  
"All hair has fallen out--not a single strand remains anywhere on the body. The ears, nose, and lips have all--well, the only way to describe it, is that they've 'rotted' away."  
"...Come back when there is something important."_

She can't feel the wounds anymore--all she feels is the cold; she no longer feels the prodding nor the cutting from the white blurs surrounding her...she thinks that the nerves in her body are dying. How long has she been here--days, weeks, months...years? She doesn't know--all she knows is that she's hungry, cold...and that she's growing sicker--she can't stop shaking, coughing...the metallic taste in her mouth never leaves. Everything is going dark, even the blurs are fading...she thinks that she is crying.

_"Those eyes are useless now with how they have rotted--remove them. I tire of looking into those dead eyes."  
"What do we do about the empty sockets?"  
"Keep them open--use wires and clear false eyes if you must; I want them to remain open--remove the eyelids while you are at it."  
"...Yes, ma'am."_

She doesn't feel, doesn't think--hurts too much feel...hurts too much think. She wants to sleep--she craves to sleep forever...but they won't let **it** sleep. They shock **it** , poke and prod **it** , cut **it** , suture and staple **it**...every time she tries to die, they force **it** awake again--she wants **it** gone...but **it** won't go.

_"Since the mental conditioning and experiments have proven so successful, we have fitted the subject into the designed combat gear, ma'am--as per your personal specifications."  
"Run the subject through the combat 'simulations'--I want to watch."_

**It** smells them--scared, dirty...the hunger grows stronger now that food is near. **It** hears them--they panic, scream, curse...they try to fight; all of them go silent and still when **it's** claws slash into them. **It** feels their blood--finally, she feels warmth and a release from her pain. As **it** devours them, the hunger finally sates.

_"Ma'am, the subject has proven to be exceptional--her tracking and methods of eliminating targets and secondaries is beyond what we could have imagined. We have truly created a most fearsome and powerful weapon, ma'am."  
"I wish to see her."_

The monster lies within it's deprivation chamber, silent and still--heavy shackles and manacles bind it's arms and legs to the metal bed of the chamber, the heavy computerized collar now chained to the inside of the chamber. The monitors fixed to the outside of the chamber keep watch on the monster's vitals and administer the fluids and chemicals from the numerous IVs wired into the tube and piercing the monster's scarred flesh. A thicker tube runs into the chamber and into the monster's mouth--buried down it's throat as one of the machines pumps the blood from the medicinal packs into it's stomach; they have to feed it near constantly to keep it docile.

The woman in the black suit steps out of the shadowy darkness and over to the deprivation chamber--the glows from the monitors serve as the only source of light in the chamber. Slowly, the woman runs a hand over the clear bulletproof-plexiglass lid; she leans over and presses as kiss to the lid over where the monster's lips should have been.

<"Once you were pretty...now you are a beautiful horror.">

The woman smirked as she drew back and turned to leave, stopping at the closed door. She glanced back over her shoulder at the chamber, tilting her head to one side as if in thought after all this time.

<"I told you that I would not let you escape; now...you will be one of my finest achievements...rest well, 'dear' sister.">

With that, the monster was left in silent darkness--one word slowly echoing through red mind...bypassing the programming of the collar...

_**< "...Sister...">** _

**Author's Note:**

> Old Author's Notes (from dA):  
> This horror story pretty much came out of nowhere for me and, well...couldn't resist the temptation to try my hand at writing a genre I haven't really tried to write since middle school--only stopping because apparently my teachers thought I was horribly disturbed by some of said writings.
> 
> New Author's Notes:  
> I personally think that I improved in writing these kind of things between this piece and my chapter story "Grand Designs", but who knows.


End file.
